Attack of the Rabid Bunnies
by Workaholic Praxian
Summary: A collection of story fragments that might one day grow into their own stories. Ch 8: Traitor. They never saw it coming.
1. Turning the Tide

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Turning the Tide

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**Author's Note: A G1 AU verse.  
**

* * *

An explosion went off in the Autobot front lines, causing a shockwave in the process as an inventor watched from afar with an amused glint in his optics.

"It's beautiful." The inventor muttered, "And you thought it wouldn't work."

His companion narrowed his optic, glaring at the inventor who was taking image captures of the battlefield. "I never said that."

"No, but close enough." The inventor gave the one opticed mech a cheeky grin; "You thought I'd set it off on myself."

"Lord Megatron is not amused about the damages caused by the last project." The scientist retorted, crossing his arms beneath his large, purple chassis.

"He'll be content with my results." The slightly smaller Decepticon stated in a matter of fact tone, "I'd say ours, but you didn't trust me enough to _actually_ help."

"With a record like yours, it's completely logical to be cautious around you."

The inventor packed what little supplies they had brought. "Shockwave, you should smile more. We'll get high grade to celebrate when we get back." He paused, raising an optic bridge as he examined Shockwave's face. "Do you even have a mouth?"

"My brother will be dissatisfied with the results." Shockwave mused, completely ignoring the question in the process. "You undoubtedly killed at least a handful of his best undercover agents."

"The old target was too predictable." The inventor shrugged, "Besides, we took out more Autobots than his agents ever could."


	2. Therapist

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Therapist

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**Author's Note: A G1 Au verse. Pure, but hidden, crack. **

**Main pairing: Inferno & Red Alert.  
**

* * *

"Hey, Rung. You in the mood to play some Black Jack before your next meeting?"

Rung approached the Praxian who was leaning back in a chair, front legs coming up off the ground, pedes up on the table top, right next to a stack of playing cards. Rung glanced at his chronometer, "I really shouldn't. He'll be here any moment."

Smokescreen flicked his doorwings. "It's Red Alert, right?"

Rung nodded his head. "He likes to be early."

"One of the few who insists on being a whole joor early." Smokescreen mused, "Yet you let him get away with it." He then grabbed his cards off the table and began to shuffle, a thoughtful look on his face. "How about the two of you join me?"

"No. I don't think he knows how to play cards." Rung paused, going over his schedule. "How about I join you later on today?"

"Sure." Smokescreen waited for Rung to scurry off to his office before smirking, muttering to the now vacant room, "He has much to learn."

* * *

Rung got situated with a datapad and stylist, as Red Alert got comfortable on his couch. "So what would you like to talk about today? Is there anything that's been bothering you?"

"Well… There isn't much new, but I'd like to talk about my family." Red Alert glanced over at Rung before shifting his gaze back to the plain white ceiling. "I trust you. You're practically apart of the family already."

"I'm honored that you think so highly of me." Rung muttered assuredly. He had never heard Red Alert mention his family with the exception of the occasional mentioning of his bondmate, Inferno.

"It all started long ago. Inferno and I had been bonded for a few vorns and we wanted to start a family of our own. Inferno came from a household with a handful of siblings whereas I was an only creation. I always wanted to have a big family…"

* * *

-A long, long, long time ago-

Inferno gave his bondmate's servo a reassuring squeeze. Everything was going to be alright. There was no need to worry, freak out or…

"INFERNO, YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

That.

"Red, it's going to be okay. There's no need to scream." Inferno tried to sooth his riled up bondmate to no avail. "It's going to be over in just a little while."

"YOU SAID THAT A JOOR AGO!" Red Alert yelled to the chagrin of all those in the medbay, not just the delivery room.

"Once this is over, we'll have a sparkling of our own. We always wanted to have a big family." Inferno twitched, trying to deal with the sudden pain as something in his servo broke and not too gently at that.

With one last push, the rather large sparkling was in the arms of the medic who checked to make sure it was functioning properly before handing him to the assistant who took it to get cleaned up.

Red Alert warily looked up at Inferno, content that the sparkling was just fine. "You're having the next one."

Inferno smiled comfortingly, trying to ignore his aching servo. "Whatever you say, Red." The assistant handed Inferno the sparkling. "Red, he has my optics." The sparkling cooed softly, wanting to go to recharge.

Inferno was about to give the sparkling to Red Alert when the medic intervened. "You don't want to do that just yet."

The two averted their attention to the medic. "Why?" Red Alert slowly questioned, thinking that there was some kind of trick lying just out of reach.

"I hope you have a large crib or four more." The medic patted Red Alert reassuringly on the ped. "You're going to need it."

Red Alert looked back to Inferno, optics wide with disbelief. It was then that Red Alert felt a shift inside of him and with a few, relatively painless pushes, the next sparkling, much smaller than the first, was out. The other three were born in a similar fashion and Inferno found that he was having great difficulty holding them all as Red Alert had fallen into a deep recharge shortly after they had been given their names.

* * *

-Back to the present-

"Those were some very long decacycles of poor recharge and soothing our adorable little sparklings." Red Alert mused, a soft grin on his face at the memories that he had grown so fond of as time passed.

"Did Inferno ever carry sparklings?" Rung questioned, completely fascinated by this new side of Red Alert that he had never heard about. He never really asked about Red's family, with the exception of how Inferno was doing.

"Primus no. We were too busy taking care of the five we had." Red Alert chuckled, "They're gestalt you know."

"How long have you and Inferno been bonded?" Rung asked, trying to figure out roughly how old Red Alert actually was. It was something that the head of security didn't talk about much, as if he thought that the knowledge could be used against him.

"Since the first vorn of the Golden Age. It was a time of great peace, and still is for that matter." Red Alert glanced over at Rung, having a feeling at what Rung was trying to figure out. "I'm a lot older than I look."

"Apparently so." Rung mumbled, looking over the notes that he had taken. "So what were the names of the sparklings?"

Red Alert looked back to the ceiling, shifting slightly to find a more comfortable position. "They decided that they wanted to work to promote the safety of Iacon, just as Inferno and I do, but in a more direct approach. While I'm the security director and Inferno's my bodyguard, well… They do what they can."

Rung gave Red Alert a questioning look, trying to piece together everything that Red Alert was talking about.

"The oldest we named Hot Spot who became a firefighter. The second oldest was Streetwise who became an enforcer. Blades became a rescue copter while First Aid is a skilled medic. The youngest, Groove, is a messenger." A glimmer of amusement flashed in Red Alert's optics. "They call themselves the Protectobots and are formed Iacon's City Response Team which they're still apart of. I assume you've heard of them."

"They're your sparklings? I knew they've been around for a while, but not _that_ long. The Protectobots are some of the most well respected bots in all of Iacon."

"Of course they're my sparklings! How else could have been created?"

"I see you're very… um… motherly towards them." Rung remarked.

"I am to all of our descendants." Red quickly replied. "Inferno spoils the family so much. I'm afraid even scraplets wouldn't want to eat them which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Inferno's a very devoted sire. I couldn't have asked for a better bondmate."


	3. Invisible

Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers

Invisible

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**Author's Note: Set in G1. Inspired on a bunny in the infamous transformers bunny farm.**

* * *

Mirage's head hurt.

It felt as if he had been hit in the face with a sledgehammer and then left for dead.

The bright light in the sky that was so fondly called the sun was making it hard for him to go back to sleep, even though Mirage knew it was for the best to get up and moving before someone found him. The mission was already fragged up as it was and Mirage wasn't in the mood to get shot at on his way to the Ark.

The good part about it being stuck in a mountain is that Mirage knew exactly where it was at all times.

Mirage rubbed his hand over his face, making sure he didn't break anything because Primus forbid he get teased at for not only being knocked out, but having a slagged up appearance on top of it. Sometimes coming from the Towers had its downfalls, especially when it came to the expectations to meet.

Where was his hand?

He certainly didn't see it, although he could feel it.

Mirage waggled his fingers directly in front of his face.

After all that, Mirage was still invisible.

He forced himself to his feet and looked himself over out of habit, even though that wasn't much help, before transforming. Knowing the terrain as well as he did, it wouldn't be difficult to get back to the Ark in one piece. That is, as so long as he wasn't ambushed by Decepticons on the way which considering his current state, it was highly unlikely.

Mirage transformed in front of the doors to the Ark, patiently waiting for Red Alert to open them for him. He wasn't in the mood to hack anything, let alone the work of Red Alert.

It was then that he realized that he was still invisible and Red Alert wouldn't be able to see him until he turned off his cloaking device. Sure it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine to maneuver while invisible, especially while making sure that he was as quiet as possible and didn't run into anything or anyone, but after a while, he got used to it, so much so that he would forget that he was invisible in the first place.

That's one of the things that he liked about Hound. The tracker was always able to find him.

**Cloaking Device: Disengage**

**Error: Cloaking Device not responding**

Mirage paused, a questioning look on his face as he reread the message.

**Cloaking Device: Disengage**

**Error: Cloaking Device not responding.**

**Cloaking Device: Disengage**

**Error: Cloaking Device not responding.**

Perhaps…

**Cloaking Device: Engage**

**Error: Cloaking Device not responding.**

"Slag." Mirage muttered out loud. So this was the day that his creators warned him about all those years ago.

**Cloaking Device: Reset.**

**Error: Cloaking Device not responding.**

**Cloaking Device: Status Check.**

**Cloaking Device: Functional.**

So all that really mattered was that it was working? Wasn't being able to turn it off something to be concerned about?

**Comm: Jazz**

: _Jazz here, what's up Raj?_ :

: _I'm outside of the Ark. If it isn't too much of an inconvenience, could you get Red Alert to open the main door?_ :

: _Sure thing._ :

Mirage closed the comm line and with an ex-vent, waited for the doors to cycle open, which didn't take longer than a minute.

After a good, long shower, Mirage wanted nothing other than to crawl into his berth and sleep. Ratchet was going to have to wait until later.


	4. Car Bra

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Car Bra

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**Author's Note: Set in G1. Yet another inspired by a bunny in the bunny farm. **

* * *

The shuffle of peds and the small movements of armor that undoubtedly belonged to doorwings alerted Prowl to Bluestreak's presence. It couldn't have been Smokescreen; the movements were completely wrong.

Prowl faced the gunner from his absentminded wandering of his office, flicking his doorwings in a greeting. "Bluestreak? What is it?"

Bluestreak snapped back into his usual cheerful state, a wide grin on his face while holding a package of some sorts. Bluestreak flicked his doorwings in response, "Nothing's wrong if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted to see how you were doing and by the looks of it, pretty well. It must be odd to not have any work to do since every time I see you in your office, you're working on _something_."

"I just finished a few breems ago." Prowl explained, "I have been invited to an event in Portland held by the local inhabitants and I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

"What? That sounds awesome! So is it just going to be you and me or is anyone else coming as well? If it's a party, we could always have Jazz and Blaster come along with us. They really like parties, you know, and a party isn't the same without them. Is there going to be high grade or how about energon goodies? It's been a while since I last had either."

"It's a parade. They requested me in particular since as an enforcer before the war, thus highly supportive of the law, they wanted to set an example for the trouble makers to behave and to let the population know that they can count on us."

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot you were an enforcer. That would explain a lot. Prowl, you're really kick aft. I didn't know the humans knew you were an enforcer, or what an enforcer even is, but are you sure it's not because of your alt mode?"

Prowl let out an ex-vent. "It's that as well. Optimus gave them his word that I would be there and I don't want to do it alone."

"I'll come. I'll get Smokescreen to come with us. It's not like he has anything better to do. The card game can wait until later."

Prowl gave Bluestreak a concerned look. "Another card game?"

Bluestreak jerked his doorwings into a stiff posture, "Uh… You didn't hear that from me, in fact, you didn't hear that at all. You don't know anything about the betting either."

Prowl rubbed his chevron. "Please tell me there are no visiting humans on the Ark today."

"Nope, no humans." Bluestreak chirped.

"Go get Smokescreen. We'll leave in an hour." Prowl muttered as the two of them left his office.

Bluestreak followed Prowl, "But he's in the rec room, so we can go together."

"Very well."

There was a brief silence as the two headed down the hall before Bluestreak remembered the package. "Prowl, I almost forgot, but I saw this in a movie I saw last week and I thought of you. So I hunted it down and got one for you. I hope it fits… They said it would, but I measured myself just to be sure since we have similar frames, but I didn't try it on because I didn't want to open it up." He presented Prowl with the package.

By the time Prowl opened the compact package and pulled out the contents, the two of them had already reached the rec room. "What is it?"

Smokescreen, who noticed their arrival and was quick to hide the evidence of their activities, cocked his head to the side to get a better view of the black material.

"I don't remember what it's called, but it goes on your chassis and helps you stay clean when driving around seeing how persistent the bug population is about dying."

It took a moment for Smokescreen to figure out what Bluestreak was talking about, but as soon as it clicked, he found it nearly impossible to hide his smirk.

"Thank you." Prowl replied, a rare smile on his face. "I'll try it on in a little bit."

Bluestreak received a hug from the older Praxian before the gunner approached Smokescreen who had been shamelessly listening in. "Smokey, Prowl and I are going to be in a parade in Portland. Why don't you come with us?"

Smokescreen saw a glimpse of Prowl trying to figure out how the material was configured as he walked out of the rec room with a cube of energon safely in his subspace. "Blue, you just made my day." Smokescreen held back a snort, "Of course I'll come." And take pictures.

* * *

Portland was a nice place and it was good to get away from the Ark for a while.

The drive was nice.

As much as Bluestreak's present looked like it would be torture to wear, especially with his doorwings, he found that it was comfortable and he could even transform with it on. The color went well with his frame, but it did stand out. Bluestreak was happy to see that he liked it, but Smokescreen fell back behind them.

When Prowl asked if something was wrong, Smokescreen vigorously shook his head no and looked as if he was in pain. Prowl was concerned, but knew to trust the gambler's judgement.

He waved to the crowds, just as Bluestreak did. Some of the younger humans ran beside them for a short while to ask quick questions. It was nice to see that they were unafraid to speak with them, though they asked some very odd questions.

Come to think about it, the majority of the population was giving him weird looks. It wasn't as if he was displaying his weapons and last he checked, he had avoided those squirrels, the suicidal creatures that they were.

Prowl let out a huff of annoyance.

Why did the humans keep asking him if he was a woman?

He wasn't a human and Cybertronians didn't have genders, so why were they so convinced that he was?

Bluestreak didn't think anything was wrong. In fact, the gunner was having a great time walking in the parade.

Smokescreen, however, was laughing his aft off while trailing behind them.

Weird looks and odd questions.

Women generally had larger chests than men and often wore additional, specialized clothing in response.

He didn't normally get a response like this, so it had to be something different about him and the only thing that it could be was Bluestreak's present.

Women wore bras.

He…

Autobot Prowl, second in command and head of the tactical department was wearing something similar to a bra.

Prowl flicked his doorwings in annoyance.

He was wearing a car bra in downtown Portland.

If Prowl was more interested in betting, he would have bet that Smokescreen was taking pictures and by time they got back to the Ark, everyone would know about it.

Prowl had the distinct feeling that this was going to come back and bite him in the aft.

On the bright side, at least he wasn't wearing whatever the equivalent to a car thong happened to be.


	5. Prohibition

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Prohibition

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**Author's Note: G1 AU.**

**Summary: High Grade is temperately not allowed. This is how the population of Cybertron copes. For the most part, follows Jazz.**

**A few things that will come in handy to know for this fic.**

: _Private comm._ :

- _Group comm._ -

"Speaking."

Astrosecond = 1 Cybertronian second/0.498 Earth seconds

Breem = 1 Cybertronian minute/8.3 Earth minutes

Joor = 1 Cybertronian hour

Orn = 1 Cybertronian day

Decacycle = 10 orns

Vorn = 1 Cybertronian year/83 Earth years

* * *

"Breaking News." A well-known reporter appeared to be shaking ever so slightly in front of the usual stack of datapads that had been long associated with such matters. "The Altihex region has experienced the most severe explosion to this orn only breems ago."

The screen displayed the huge explosion, taking out several energon mines with it and closing the entrances to many more, trapping thousands of workers inside.

"Rescue teams are being organized and dispatched to save the trapped individuals. Medics who are not on the teams are asked to be on standby in their respected medbays. Lists are being prepared. Those who have been found will have their current location while those who contain bots still missing will have their last known location. They will be posted and updated regularly. The cause is yet to be determined."

* * *

To Whom It May Concern:

It has come to my attention that the parts requested for the energon synthesizing machines located at the southern part of the Rust Sea haven't been sent yet and won't be until another few decacycles. Machines that made the parts had been thrown off calibration from the recent Altihex explosion since, as you may know, our facility is nearby. The parts will be melted down and we will reuse the metal to remake the parts in the requested specifications. Thank you for being patient with us.

Sincerely,

Solarflare

Shipment Manager

* * *

Zeta Prime walked to the podium in the center of the large stage, cameras flashing and recording devices focused to get every astrosecond of what he was to say for the entire planet to see. As a prime, he had long since grown used to the stresses of being in such a position and as much, he was unaffected by it.

"My brethren, today is a day of much recovery. The inhabitants of the Altihex region, the miners in particular, have received a heavy hit. We are a strong and resilient race. There are stories of brave individuals who spent orns working to reopen entrances to the mines just as there are stories of leaders emerging in the caves to provide peace and order while awaiting help. Medics working around the clock to save patients brought in from the region. I could go on all orn listing off the great things that have been done in response to the accident. We must work together, everyone across the planet and conserve energon for the time being. What I'm asking is not to cut down in the traditional sense of not utilizing as much of our life sustaining fluid, but to do a harmless alternative. What might this be?" Zeta Prime paused, allowing time for his audience to think the question over. "A temporary ban on high grade."

* * *

- Six Vorns Later -

"Sentinel Prime, is it true that you're against lifting the ban on high grade?"

Sentinel looked slightly offended by the question, "Silverbell, why would you think that? I love high grade as much as the next bot."

Silverbell crossed her legs, resting her datapad full of questions on her lap as she stared intently at the prime before her. "Many sources have reported that the economy, especially in the Altihex region, have fully recovered. Energon production is back to normal and surveys of the population show that the majority are eager to accept high grade back into our lives."

"My predecessor, may his spark be resting in the well, was a great prime. He was the one who came up with the ban on high grade in the first place and Cybertron as a whole has been doing better because of it. World hunger has become nonexistent."

"World hunger was solved not from a ban on high grade, but from the advancements of the brilliant minds at Crystal City. Individuals such as Perceptor and Starscream have been working together to make renewable sources of energon, thus cutting down the dependency of mining raw energon and depleting the planet's natural resources." Silverbell looked over her datapad finding the exact details, "Energy from the waves in the Rust Sea, sunlight from our two suns and movement from the wind are being converted into perfectly safe to consume energon."

Sentinel straightened, looking as if he that had been the first time he had even heard of that. "I'm… very lucky… to have been chosen to be the next prime over this prosperous planet. The ban _should_ be removed within the next few vorns."

The recording crew cheered into the background, some forming group hugs while others promised to take the others out for a round of drinking.

* * *

Engines purred as individuals got into formation, the positions having been given out from the results of the last race although some had different spots due to won or lost bets that had been made the night before.

A black and white Polyhexian pulled into his location near the back. This was his first time racing in this group, having just transferred in after utilizing some very strong connections.

He switched to the frequency that the leader, Stoplight, had mentioned back at the place they had been staying at for the last orn and if all things went well, again tonight.

- _ Comm, is the frequency secured?_ – Skyscraper questioned, a tinge of eagerness in his voice.

- _Just an astrosecond…_ - An unknown voice hummed over the group frequency before replying. – _Frequency secured. So how are you, my main mech?_ -

- _It's a very fine orn for a race. It's been a while since we were last here in Kaon._ – Skyscraper mused, - _Last time we were here, Spinout slipped off the road._ -

- _But he _always_ does that._ – A voice protested in a whining tone.

- _I do not!_ – Spinout protested, - _Daft, you're over exaggerating things again. _-

Stoplight interjected before it became too much. –_ Comm, why don't you to the lineup so we can get started_? –

Meiser watched as the last of the group finally arrived. He had yet to put a name to each one, but he still had time to do that. If all went well, he'd be able to stick around in this group for a long time to come. He was a very skilled racer if he said so himself.

Comm hummed a small tune over the frequency as the owner of the voice looked for the list. – _In first place we have Windracer followed closely by Airstream. Third is Roadrage. Fourth is… uh… Skyscraper. Fifth is Stoplight who is followed closely by Speedbump and Spinout. Eighth is the newbie, Meiser. Wow, we got another betting mech on our hands. Ninth is Roadburn. Tenth is Daft._ – There was a chuckle across the frequency. – _Streetglider managed to put himself in last. Do I even want to know_? –

The eleventh member of the group pulled in ever so quietly. Meiser almost missed the sleek, pure white bot's presence entirely if it weren't for the sudden feeling that he was being watched. A very calm voice spoke up on their frequency. –_ Not particularly. It's a long story anyway. We're all here and in the correct positions._ –

- _When the light turns green, feel free to begin._ – Comm announced.

Meiser brought his attention to the light, hovering on yellow before the change to red. He revved his engine in anticipation. It wouldn't be much longer now.

Just as the light turned green, he hit the accelerator, weaving his way pass several bots before the others even had the change to get started. Glancing back, he spotted the white bot, Streetglider, far behind and going at a much slower pace than he expected for a bot with an alt mode so similar to his own. It was a shame. He was looking forward to racing the bot. With a name like Streetglider, Meiser was expecting a whole lot more from the white mech.


	6. Captive

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Captive

* * *

**Author's Note: I have no idea where this one came from other than a suggestion for Thundercracker and Bluestreak to be in a pairing.**

* * *

Thundercracker supposed it could be worse.

He could have broken struts, cracked optics, twisted joints, hung upside down by his peds, beat regularly and even thrown to the special ops for interrogation, but he wasn't.

The cell was well lit if the complete lack of shadows was anything to go by, not to mention clean. Thundercracker had seen the standard Decepticon brig many times throughout his life and it was usually full of shadows, pieces of the last prisoner and marked with energon.

To top it off, dealing with Smokescreen was nothing compared to Vortex. Smokescreen knew how to do his job, but it was a comforting thought that Thundercracker wasn't being interrogated by a masochistic psychopath.

If it weren't for the occasional trigger-happy Autobot keeping an optic on him, he'd consider his brig time to be a vacation.

Thundercracker didn't have to get involved with Skywarp's pranks or listen to Starscream rant about how the scientist would be a better leader than Megatron.

Other than the time he spent being interrogated, Thundercracker spent his time refueling, recharging and thinking. He thought about a lot of things; from topics such as who he thought would guard him next to the meaning of life.

As Thundercracker stared at the ceiling, wondering if anyone would come to rescue him when he vaguely registered the signs of a shift change.

* * *

Bluestreak entered the brig for his shift. Brig duty was usually as exciting as watching paint dry. At least with monitor duty, there was something happening, even if it was just watching 'bots move about.


	7. Medbay

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Medbay

* * *

**Author's Note: G1/Prime cross AU. **

**Summary: The war is over and Knockout finds himself needing to stay true to his promise.**

**Pairing: Slight Breakdown & Knockout references.**

* * *

After what felt like an eternity of fighting, the war was over and both sides were putting their differences aside and working together to rebuild Cybertron. Many were at distant ends of the universe and had a very long trip ahead of them, especially since many of the spacebridges that had been constructed long before the war started were damaged and needed repairs while the rest were undergoing maintenance. It was a slow and tiring process, but Cybertronians were making their way home.

The cities of Cybertron were under construction while the planet itself had recovered during the absence of its inhabitants. Energon and other resources had been put under better management since the war had instilled better practices and higher efficiency. Not only that, but inventions for the formation of energon through other power sources such as solar energy had greatly cut down on the demands for mining raw energon.

Knockout, even though he was the CMO on the Nemesis during the war, wasn't a full-fledged medic. Medics were so hard to come by, especially with the Decepticons, that Megatron had taken the top of the class at the Decepticon medical school to work on the Nemesis to work with Hook. That was how the two became associated and eventually friends. Hook had worked with him and though a perfectionist, the surgeon filled in the gaps of what Knockout hadn't learned yet.

One day, it was decided that the Constructicons were needed more elsewhere and so Hook went with his team, leaving Knockout to his own devices. It was then claimed, right as Hook was about to leave, that Knockout was a medic, no longer an assistant seeing how he could improvise and work on his own. There were still things that Knockout couldn't do, but he quickly learned how to get around the problem in ways that the medical association back on Cybertron would have gaped at.

It was hard difficult work; there was no use in denying that. Decacycles passed and Knockout was given his own assistant. Sure the mech didn't possess very much medical knowledge whatsoever, but that wasn't uncommon in the Decepticon ranks. As so long as the medics knew what they were doing, it didn't matter who the assistant was; the need for medics was _that_ bad.

His assistant learned and grew accustomed to Knockout's ways. Even though he wouldn't be considered a medic, even by Decepticon standards, he was also considered to be Knockout's bodyguard.

The two became close friends and while others thought they were even closer than that, they spent just about every moment together. Knockout was promoted to CMO, that and there were no other medics on the Nemesis, but Knockout did his best. He and his assistant, Breakdown, knew just about all there was to know about each other. It was Breakdown who convinced Knockout that one day, he'd finish his training to be a full-fledged medic. Being in a sappy kind of mood that night and somewhat over energized as well, the two made a promise to each other. Breakdown would stay by his side, no matter what happened while Knockout would finish his training. Sure they'd be unable to fulfill such promised if they were killed in the war, but until that day, they'd stick to it the best they could.

Breakdown had since offlined.

Knockout still missed him.

Even though Breakdown was no longer at his side, Knockout was going to do his best to keep his promise to Breakdown. The mech genuinely wanted Knockout to be able to stand on his own two feet as a medic once the war was over.

That's why Knockout had originally gotten back in contact with Hook, hoping the perfectionist would help him complete his training. What he hadn't taken in to consideration was that Hook would be working with the other Constructicons in rebuilding Cybertron from the ground up.

Instead of losing hope, which Knockout was on the verge of doing, he pestered Hook about what kind of buildings they had done, in what city were they working on and if any medics were in the area. Instead of telling him who that medic was, Hook told him about a medbay that the Constructicons had recently built, a favor to a friend before the war started.

Taking this opportunity, he convinced Hook to get him an interview at the medbay to get a job there as well as the location of it.

* * *

Knockout looked up at the building, one in a handful that had been built by the Constructicons in what was once the bustling city of Iacon. The population of Iacon was small, but in time it would grow back to what it had once been.

The building itself was a bit large, but it wasn't the biggest building that had been built so far. The Constructicons had definitely taken their time on it. Wide windows would allow the sun to filter in during the day. Hook had bragged about how the windows would be difficult to break, let alone crack, making it a safe, but beautiful place to be. It was a very sturdy building and although he hadn't entered it, Knockout felt jealous whatever medic was in charge of it.

After he was done checking out the medbay from the outside, seeing how it was locked up tight, Knockout stopped by the other buildings in the section of Iacon that had been rebuilt and even hunted down the location where the Constructicons were staying.

Knockout rang the bell, looking around at his surroundings. They certainly were doing a good job.

"Hello." Longhaul drawled, standing in the now open doorway. "It's been a long time since we've last seen you."

"That it has." Knockout replied, hearing the laughter of the other Constructicons in the background. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Longhaul moved out of the way, allowing the smaller mech to come in before shutting and securely locking the door behind them.

Knockout looked around, having thought that the Constructicons would have made a fancier place for themselves. Sure they weren't going to permanently settle down at this location, but Iacon wasn't going to be rebuilt in a decacycle. He followed Longhaul who went to where the others were, expecting Knockout to follow on his own instead of having to be told to do so.

Scavenger was in the middle of a joke when the two came in. Knockout wasn't sure what he was expecting, but a warm welcome from everyone, not just Hook, wasn't it.

"It's been a long time." Hook smirked, checking out the changes that Knockout had made as the vorns went by. "It's good to see you again."

Scavenger was practically bouncing in his spot on the couch. "You're a lot shinier than I remember."

"Things happen." Knockout outwardly brushed the comment off to the side although he secretly soaked up the complement, hoping more were on the way. "How's work here been?"

Scrapper answered, having made a mental list of their projects and the states of each. "We have much to do, but nothing that we can't handle. The medbay turned out better than expected."

The other Constructicons agreed.

"How long has it been open?" Knockout questioned, taking the empty seat, much to Longhaul's displeasure.

"It's been done for a few days now and we've done tours, but my friend still needs to get everything situated before it officially opens." Hook replied, "I've been told that I can work there whenever I want."

"Who's in possession of the medbay?" Knockout questioned, wanting to know who it was that he'd be working for and being trained by.

The others looked towards Hook, amused looks on their faces, but the medic was silent, not wanting to spoil the surprise. "You'll find out soon enough."

Mixmaster passed him a cube of energon. "I made it myself." The scientist proudly stated, waiting for Knockout to accept it before taking a swig of his own cube.

"Thanks." Knockout muttered. "So do I have the job?"

"You'll have to talk to him about it tomorrow morning at ten. I'll meet you there." Hook replied, "Also, your living arrangements have been settled." Hook handed him a datapad containing the location along with other key information.

Knockout accepted it, taking a quick glance through the datapad. "Thank you for everything." It wasn't often that Knockout thanked anyone for anything, but this was something major and he really meant it. If it weren't for the Constructicons, he would still be aboard the Nemesis, trying to figure out what to do next. There weren't very many medbays set up yet and so he would have had quite a wait ahead of him.

"You might want to get going." Bonecruncher suggested. "It's getting late and we all have a big day tomorrow."

With a few last words and several goodbyes, Knockout left, leaving the Constructicons alone once again.

"Hook, does he know who our friend is?" Scavenger questioned, not wanting to use the actual name in case if Knockout was still nearby.

"Nope. Our friend doesn't know it's Knockout either." Hook replied, a smug look upon his face. "I didn't want to miss the look on their faces. I'll be sure to tell you all about it when I get back."

Scrapper shook his head, though he couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "It's time to recharge."

The Constructicons left the living room; Longhaul staying behind to turn off the light and make sure the door was locked before joining his siblings.

* * *

Knockout wasn't lost, he was just checking the area out, that's all. If he was going to be living at what turned out to be apartments, newly constructed ones on top of it, he needed to know the layout firsthand. It wasn't because he didn't have a map and couldn't find his actual one in the dark.

A flash of blue caught his attention once again. He had seen it several times already and was getting the distinct feeling like he was wandering around in circles.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention. Knockout stopped his advancement to face the resident. A red and white mech with a facemask and a blue visor stepped out, securely shutting the door behind him. "Are you lost?" The mech hesitantly questioned, "I've seen you go pass my apartment four times tonight."

"Uh… well…" Knockout straightened, "Now that you've asked, do you know where apartment…" Knockout looked back at the datapad, quickly locating the number, which wasn't what he thought it had been in the first place which explained why he was having so much trouble. "27 is?"

The visored mech brightened, "You're moving in?"

"Yes." Knockout answered, somewhat suspicious of the harmless mech before him.

"I was wondering who would live there." The mech brought him to the apartment next to the one they had been lingering in front of. "I'm in 28. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask. By the way, I'm First Aid." The mech offered his hand to Knockout.

"Knockout." Knockout took the hand, giving it a brief shake before letting go. The name sounded somewhat familiar, but he wasn't sure where. "Aren't you apart of some group or something?"

If the facemask wasn't in place, Knockout could have sworn the mech was smiling. "My brothers and I are the Protectobots. The apartments on this floor are somewhat small and cozy, but they're much bigger than what we were given on the Ark. Some of the other floors have bigger places, but we decided to have our own separate apartments for now. We might change our minds as time goes on. You'll see them around when they're not working. If you want, I can introduce you to them."

"Perhaps some other time." Knockout replied. He just wanted to get a good night of recharge.

"Have a good evening." First Aid muttered before heading off to his own apartment.

Knockout, looking over the datapad, keyed in the access code, grateful when it opened, revealing a plain, unadorned apartment. Making sure the door shut and was locked, he took a quick tour of his new living space before entering his newly found berth room. True to his word, the apartment was small, but a perfect size for a single bot.

Carefully, he sat at the edge of the berth, testing for its durability and comfort before lying down and beginning his recharge sequence.


	8. Traitor

**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Traitor

* * *

They always assumed he was just a paranoid minibot; someone who saw traitors everywhere just as Red Alert did. What they didn't realize was that he was only doing it to save his own tailpipe and to convince the Autobots that he wasn't actually the traitor.

As expected, they never saw it coming.

The Autobots, even Red Alert, believed he was a completely and utterly loyal Autobot. Why wouldn't they? He was an Autobot since the very beginning and never shown any signs that he could even vaguely be linked to the Decepticons.

After all, he was the one that, Bluestreak and Ironhide aside, appeared to despise the Decepticons the most.

Some of the minibots knew that long before the war started, he had been courted by a cassette player, just as many had in the past, and had declined the offer. What they didn't know is that after a vorn of persuasion, had freely decided to accept the offer and was still loyal to said mech.

It had been a long time since he last saw his partner and it felt great to be back. The soothing pulse of his companion was causing him to fall into a gentle recharge.

Now only if the brat were to move over just a tad, then everything would be back as it had once been, long before the war as well as before his partner had other cassettes. When he had left for his undercover mission, Ravage had just agreed to join him and his old friend.

Cliffjumper grumbled, nudging the younger bot over just a tad as he stretched. "Rumble, move over. I get the right side of the cassette holder."

Rumble onlined his optics, coming face to face an individual he had long since thought of as his enemy. "What are you doing in here anyway, Auto-dork?"

"If you must know, I was here first, brat."

The looks from the others were priceless and Cliffjumper was glad that he had gotten a few good image captures to show Soundwave. But now that he had a bit more room, he was going to take a long, peaceful rest.


End file.
